#michael langdon fandom

[xwilltruman]

the pitt on twitter part 1 (part 4 here) (pt 8 here)

[ebodebo]

LISTEN…confronting your fiance, langdon, about his drug problem…at the hospital which you’re a nurse at…and your dad overhears the yelling and barges in…and yes ofc robby is your dad bc who do you think i am? heavy angst incoming!

mentions of addiction and drugs…read at your own discretion!

-

Your sight must be deceiving you.

You had been going off of little to no sleep and in the middle of your fifteen-hour shift.

The bag in your hands held small white pills, each one taunting you from behind its wall of plastic.

You had been staring at them for ten minutes.

Ten tantalizing minutes that felt like an eternity.

You swore you didn't come to snoop, but…you had a gut feeling to check deep in his backpack.

You almost threw up when you heard the crinkle of the bag and felt the hard circles enclosed.

"Honey," Langdon breaches the silence as he approaches, not noticing the bag in your hand. "Are you alright?"

You close your eyes, releasing a shallow breath as you slowly turn to face him, the bag hanging by your fingertips.

His eyes widen in surprise before words start pouring out of his mouth. "Okay," he begins, putting his hands up. "I know what you think," he nods his head, his chest rising with each word.

Your lips flatline, and you release a shallow breath through your nose. "Do you?"

"I'm not an addict," he urges, eyes wide.

You shake your head, a humorless smile on your face. "Why did you feel the need to clarify that, huh?" 

His jaw tightens. "I—I'm not."

You shake your head, tears already brimming your waterline. "How long?"

"Listen…you're upset," he starts, but his voice is too calm, which makes you lose it. 

You toss the pills on the floor. "How fucking long have you been hooked on these God-damn pills!" you shout louder than intended, tears now fully streaming down your cheeks.

His eyes widen. "Just—just calm down," his calm voice suggests, yet it carries some nervousness.

"You want me to calm down?" you spit, eyes narrowing at him. "I just found out my fiance is an addict, and you want me to calm down?" 

"Baby, baby," he moves closer to you, desperation in his voice. "You, you know me," his eyes search yours, looking away from his. "I'm not a fucking addict." His hands move to press into either of your biceps.

You almost falter at his touch, but you shake your head, finally looking up at him. "Do I know you?" you ask, eyes moving over his. "I mean, do I really?"

"I haven't lied to you," he says, his light eyes searching for anything from yours. "Baby, I'm not an addict. Could an addict do what I do?"

He tries to reason, and you let out a dry laugh.

A salty tear runs down your lips as you sniffle. "Apparently," you shrug him off, stepping away from him to run your hands through your hair.

"You, you know me," his hands shake as he tries to explain. "They're just for the pain."

"That's what they all say, Frank," your voice rises as you chew on the inside of your cheek. "You know that."

He inhales deep breaths, raising his hands in surrender. "Baby…I know you're upset," he starts, making you laugh humorlessly.

"That doesn't even scratch the surface," you say plainly.

"Please don't, don't tell Robby," he exasperates, his voice tight. “He'll report me, baby," he moved closer to you. "Please don't."

You let out a huff. "You don't want me to tell my dad you're an addict so you can keep your fucking job?"

"Baby, please," he urges, desperation in his words. "I could lose my medical license."

Your mouth hangs open; silence hangs between you two for a moment before your voice dips down. "You piece of shit," you mutter. "You piece of fucking shit," you bring your finger up to point at him, voice incredulous. You shrug loosely. "Were you on the pills when you proposed?"

"Baby," he tilts his head to the side, evading the question.

"Were you on them?" your voice is lethal, loud.

He closes his eyes before opening them, letting his shoulders sag.

There it is.

The confession.

You shake your head, your eyes downcast as you make a humorless sound. "Oh, that's just...that's real nice, Frank," you begin, your voice rising as you continue. "I'm so fucking glad to know that you were God-damn high when you told me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me."

"I, I meant everything I said," he says immediately. "We can—we can still get married," he says hopefully. "I love you so much."

"No, you don't, Frank," you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. "You would have told me about the pills if you did."

"What's going on in here?" Dr. Robby's voice slices through the air, making your and Langdon's eyes snap to him.

"Robby," Langdon greets, voice slightly shaky. "No—nothing,"

Dr. Robby's eyes drift to you.

Your eyes are bloodshot, cheeks wet with tears.

"Frank," he turns towards Langdon, pointing lazily at you. "What the hell did you do to my daughter?"

"I didn't—I didn't do anything, Robby," he tries, eyes moving to you as if you were going to defend him.

"He's a fucking addict," your voice ricochets off the walls. You bend down to pick up the bag off the floor. "Painkillers."

Dr. Robby's eyes snap back to Langdon. "Is it true?"

"It's not what you think—" Langdon starts before Dr. Robby lifts up his hand.

"Frank," he urges, voice low. "Have you been popping painkillers?"

Langdon doesn't move for a moment before he slowly nods. Dr. Robby lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head. 

"Frank," he looks at him. "You need to leave," he says, finality in his tone.

"If you would just let me explain—" Langdon starts before Dr. Robby wipes his face roughly.

"Get the fuck out of my ER!" Dr. Robby shouts. "Now."

Langdon winces before he slowly grabs his backpack, eyes locking with yours before you turn away from his gaze. He nods lightly before turning to move out of the door.

"Daddy," you say lowly when Langdon leaves, sinking onto the ground and propping yourself on the locker. "He's an addict," you sniffle, head in your hands. "A fucking addict."

Dr. Robby sighs as he approaches you, sinking into the spot next to you.

"He was on them when he proposed," you murmur, chest heaving. "He was fucking high!"

"Oh…sweet pea," he coaxes, putting his arm around your shoulder and embracing you.

"I, I feel so lost," you blubber into his chest, tears staining his jacket. "I don't know what to do."

He nods. "You don't have to do anything right now, kiddo. You just have to be. I'm here for you," his voice offers you some comfort.

You don't remember how long you sat there crying into your dad's chest, staining his clothes and ruining your makeup.

You’re glad to stop moving for a moment.

Letting everything go and putting it all in the open.

You know that eventually, you'll have to deal with the fallout, but for now, you just wanted your dad to hold you.

-

author’s note: oh my god this got way more emotional than i intended…

[pittsick]

the pitt characters as tumblr / twitter posts.

[redroses07]

when the show/movie has a cast that’s so fine you don’t know who to read a fic about 😞

[langdonss]

The Antichrist

[beastsovrevelation]

Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.

[aunty-venom]

Okay, so there’s the obvious combos we want to see more of in season 2 (Santos and Whitaker as roommates/besties, Langdon and Mel as mentor/mentee or as lovers, Abbott/Mohan), BUT I also would like to see way more of:

McKay and Langdon - she’s admitted to struggling with addiction in the past and I think she could offer him support from a more understanding place and I just want to see them become good friends

McKay and Collins - idk we just didn’t get to see them interact a whole lot and I wanna know what kind of dynamic they’d have

I wanna see all the women interact more

Abbott and Santos - his comment about her being badass for doing the REBOA. I think he could be a really good mentor for Santos. They both seem to like taking risks and Abbott seems the most patient of the attendings imo.

Whitaker and Javadi - they’re both students so I’d love to see them become better friends that have each others backs while they both navigate becoming doctors. I feel like they also both maybe have some baggage regarding their parents (Javadi obviously does) and I think it would be nice to see them be supportive of each other in that regard.

Honestly we’ve mostly just seen Javadi with McKay and I loved that but i wanna see more of her in general. Maybe more with Mel or Abbott. Oooh or Garcia, I love the idea of Javadi picking up some of Garcias take-no-shit attitude and learning how to stand up for herself a little more.

I wanna see a kinda of mentorship relationship with Whitaker and Mohan. Idgaf what Robby says, Mohans thorough approach with patients is awesome and I wish more doctors were like her, and we’ve seen that Whitaker is kind of similar with how he is with patients and I’d love to see him become Mohan 2 and they just BOTH take their time to make patients comfortable and the satisfaction scores just go way up

Just more of the night shift staff period. We didn’t get to learn a whole lot about most of them and I can just tell that Ellis and Shen are gonna be such interesting characters.

[saintlucretia]

Devil Wears A Suit

part Ⅰ

Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mention of murder. Hot devil's son. Sexual harassment? Michael Langdon.

Summary: Y/N is a purple at Outpost 3 and gets interviewed by Mr. Langdon.

A/N: I will go to hell for this and I am not opposing if he will be there too.

After 18 months at the underground Outpost life was as dreadful as being killed by a bomb explosion. Or worse. A bunch of snobs and shallow cowards. It was clear as day, that it was just a matter of time before everyone was at each other's throats. 

It wasn’t the Outpost itself or the fact that we are the last human beings on this planet that made everything so depressing. It was boredom. A hole in my head. The only bearable person here was Mr. Gallant. Without his company at the dining table, I could have stuck a fork into my neck.

That evening Ms. Venable announced to us about a visitor. The agent of the Cooperative. Even though she remained calm as usual I sensed a note of fear in her voice. So it means this new man has great authority. I was grateful for any kind of entertainment, even if it meant a bloody revolution. After 18 months with the same people, fresh meat is always dainty.

Ms. Venable ended her speech when a tall man with long blond hair entered the room. He had a dark aura. The aura of power.

“My name is Langdon and I represent The Cooperative,” he said, circling our table. “Humanity is on the brink of failure.”

I glanced at the other residents of the Outpost. They all looked tense and nervous, especially Ms. Venable. She seemed almost afraid of him. Only Mr. Gallant seemed as amused as me. We glanced at each other and I immediately understood what was on his mind. After all, he had a good taste in men.

“My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth.” His speech was persuasive, words sharp and his blue eyes pierced into all of us. Such an ability to capture everyone's attention was making me delighted.

He stopped at the head of the table and continued. “The three other compounds have been overrun and destroyed.”

“What happened to the people inside?” asked Timothy worried. 

“Massacred,” answered Langdon and I think I caught the shadow of a grin on his face.

I bit my lip to stop myself from chuckling. I had to admit, this Langdon was a very attractive man. And Mr. Gallant was obviously admiring his appearance too. But there was something about The Cooperative representative that made me feel uneasy. It was as if he was hiding something. Something very bad. 

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe… The Sanctuary,” he said, placing his hands behind his back. “I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us. The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call ‘Cooperating’. Simply, I will determine if you belong.”

I remained silent, analyzing the situation. Everyone seemed wary and looked at others with distrust. Only Coco didn’t have enough brains to remain silent and tried to openly express her dissatisfaction. Fortunately, her tirade was abruptly suppressed.

“I volunteer to go first.” Mr. Gallant raised his hand. 

“And so you shall,” Langdon said threateningly, looking us over. He had a cold, calculating look in his eyes. I had a feeling that he already knew who he was going to select.

“The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won’t be kept in suspense forever. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.” I felt his gaze on me and barely restrained myself from looking away. 

Langdon left the room and everyone immediately started to argue. A bunch of morons, all of them. I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, observing the conversation. Everyone began to share their suspicions and guesses, but of course, they were all too wrapped up in their own fear to notice the whole thing. The Cooperative looked at us as laboratory rats and no one seemed to see that. Pathetic. 

I let out a sigh of annoyance and left the room.

                                                      ✦✦✦

I ran into Malcolm in the hallway an hour later and looked at him questioningly. 

“Oh, darling, I almost had a heart attack." He came closer and started whispering "I'm a bit scared of him. He is definitely hot as hell, but twice as evil."

I chuckled. "Well, that's quite a review. Did he tell you anything new?"  

Mr. Gallant leaned even closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "He asked me a lot of personal questions...I mean really personal."  

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

“Like my sexuality for example. And my nana. And other��� things. Pretty intimate. I felt so uncomfortable, but I tried to keep it cool.” 

My eyebrows furrowed in interest. So these "Cooperating" sessions were, indeed, quite unique. It seemed like Langdon wanted to know every minuscule detail about each person. I began to wonder what kind of "personal" questions he would ask me. I also began to wonder why I was so looking forward to the moment. 

“I felt like he was trying to rip out my soul.” Added Malcolm in a whisper.

I smirked. "Well, that's quite a dramatic way to describe it." Malcolm chuckled nervously but I had a feeling that he wasn't exaggerating. Langdon was certainly not the type of man that you could fool easily. He could see right through people.

But something was intriguing. I felt a strange thrill at the idea of uncovering the depth of Langdon's scrutiny. 

 "I guess I'll have to brace myself for my turn then," I said nonchalantly.

“Good luck sweetheart.” We kissed each other on the cheek and went in different directions.

I slowly walked to my quarters, lost in thought. I was feeling an inexplicable mixture of excitement and curiosity. The thought of being examined by Langdon, being exposed under the watchful gaze of his sharp eyes, was somehow appealing. God, I have to stop.

I shook my head firmly, trying to dismiss these thoughts. "This is ridiculous," I mumbled to myself softly.

Suddenly I heard something. Something like a scream perhaps. I stopped and looked around. There was no one except me in this dimly lit hall. And then this sound again. More like a whisper now. Millions of whispers. My head began to spin slightly. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Silence. Everything went quiet. I turned around and flinched as I saw Langdon behind me.

“Mrs. Y/S, I’d like to talk with you next.” 

I looked up at Langdon with a surprised expression, silently cursing myself for being so lost in my thoughts to the point of not noticing him coming closer. His presence was so powerful that it still made my heart flutter even now.

"Lead the way," I replied, trying to maintain my composure. 

Langdon didn't bother answering, simply gesturing for me to follow him. I walked behind him through the maze of halls and rooms. 

We finally reached the entrance to what appeared to be his cabinet. Langdon stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. Entering the room, I noticed how dark and ominous it felt. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old leather-bound volumes. The main source of light was a fireplace.

Langdon gestured for me to sit down on the armchair across from him. I lowered myself gently, straightening my purple dress. 

He studied me, wanted me to be nervous, wanted me to crack. I knew this game. I have played this game with many different powerful men, who think they are Gods because they have dicks. I never lose in a game like this.

His eyes searched my face, trying to find any sign of weakness. But I held his gaze firmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated.

I leaned back in my seat, a small smirk on my lips. "I see you're expecting me to be quivering in my boots," I said with a hint of sarcasm.

Langdon chuckled darkly. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. 

A silence fell between us, and I held his gaze without flinching. Something about his demeanor made my heart beat a little faster, but I was determined not to show it.

“I prefer conversations to be effective, Mr. Langdon.”

Langdon raised an eyebrow at my remark, a smirk forming his lips. He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "Straight to the point, are we?" 

He studied me for a moment, his eyes still locked onto mine.

"Well, I can appreciate a straightforward woman," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth. "It makes the process much more efficient."

He paused for a moment, his gaze never faltering. "Ms. Y/S," he began, my name rolling off his tongue like a sinful whisper. "Allow me to ask you a personal question."

“Ask,” I replied.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His eyes were laser-focused on me, and I could practically feel his gaze trying to pierce through my soul. 

"What do you fear the most?" he asked, his tone almost gentle.

I was caught off guard by the question and made a mistake. Langdon noticed the slight flicker of surprise in my eyes. He chuckled softly. "That's what I thought," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You may have mastered the art of bravado, but everyone has a weakness," he continued. "And I'm here to find yours." 

I watched him back and after crossing my legs answered "I fear being surrounded by idiots for the rest of my life." I needled.

Langdon raised an eyebrow, visibly amused. "Well, you certainly have a way with words, don't you?", he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

He leaned back in his seat, studying me closely. "Being trapped in a group of lesser minds for eternity may be torturous, especially for a woman of your... intelligence."

“For a man of your power, it’s a pity that you use flattery as a term of manipulation,” I said, tilting my head in a mocking manner. 

Langdon chuckled, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Ah, so observant," he said, still maintaining his smirk. 

He leaned slightly forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm not just using flattery, Ms. Y/S. I do recognize your intellect. But don't mistake my compliments for manipulation. I simply use the tools at my disposal."

“Huh.”

Langdon chuckled again, clearly appreciating my dry response. "You have a sharp tongue," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It may be your unique feature or a pathetic attempt to hide your fear.”

I could feel a flicker of irritation at his words, but I forced myself to remain impassive. Langdon was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Perhaps it's a little bit of both," I replied, my voice cool and steady. "Or perhaps you're simply not used to people who don't cower easily in front of someone higher in rank."

He stood up from his seat and started circling me slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. “Be careful, Ms. Y/S. Your bold attitude is admirable, but at some point, this can play a cruel joke on you.”  His gaze burned into me as he studied me from every possible angle.

“I appreciate the warning,” I said coldly. “I don't fear intimidation tactics.”

“You are a brave woman.” Langdon's voice was suddenly close behind me, his breath lingering on the nape of my neck. A small shiver ran down my spine, and I had to suppress the urge to turn around and look at him.

“A little too brave, some would say.” he continued, his words almost a whisper. “Tell me, Ms. Y/S, is it hard to be the smartest in the room? To be forced to communicate with idiots?”

There was a hint of mockery in his tone that made me nauseous. But I still refused to let him see any sign of weakness. I sat up straighter in my chair, lifting my chin.

“It can be... annoying at times,” I admitted.

“It is irritating how arrogant the upper class is, isn’t it? Especially toward women.” I felt the touch of his fingers on my arm and I barely restrained myself from snatching my hand away. “The world before the bombs wasn’t that much brighter than this one, was it? They all mistreated you, and never took you seriously… Does the idea of them having everything infuriate you?”

His words hit a nerve, the subtle truth in them cutting through my defenses. Yes, the world before the bombings was far from perfect, and I had my fair share of disappointments.

But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had managed to hit a weak spot. I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “And what makes you think you're any different from them?”

He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing along my skin, tracing patterns against the fabric of my dress. His nonchalant arrogance was both infuriating and strangely enthralling. 

“Oh, I never claimed to be any different," he responded, his voice low and husky. “But I will say this - I appreciate intelligence, especially in women. I can see your potential.”

“Potential,” I repeated, struggling to keep my tone even. “For what, exactly?”

Langdon ignored my question. His hands, now both on my arms, crawled up to my shoulders. “Have you ever thought about punishing them? About finally showing what you are capable of, so they would never think you are only ‘pretty face’ again?” His breath tickled my ear. “Have you ever thought about making them scared of you?”

His hands on my shoulders were deceptively gentle, yet they seemed to burn against my skin through the fabric of my dress. His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered his words, making my breath hitch in my throat. 

I felt a strange mixture of anger and... excitement at his words. The thought had crossed my mind more than once if I was being honest with myself. To show them ALL how strong and brilliant I truly was. To shuffle a knife into someone’s throat. I remained silent. 

“I sense this force in you, Y/N.”

His voice seemed to fill the space between us, wrapping around me like a dark, intimate spell. He leaned closer, his chest almost pressed against my back. His hands remained on my shoulders, his fingers gently massaging my tense muscles. 

There was something about his voice, the way he said my name, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if he could see right through me, past the cool exterior I had been trying to maintain. He knew about the anger, the desire, the fire burning within me.

“I can tell you have a dark side,” he murmured, his voice deep and low. 

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“Yes, you do.” His hands continue to stroke my shoulders gently. He was amused by my denial.

“You don't have to play coy with me, Ms. Y/N," he said, his voice velvety smooth. “I can feel it radiating off of you. That simmering anger, that burning desire."

Langdon leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear. “You want... power. And I can promise you that.”

His words were a seductive murmur, weaving their way into my mind and planting thoughts of power and revenge. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push, what desires to awaken within me. 

"Power," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My mind was swimming, both alarmed and intrigued by his proposal. I felt like I was hypnotized. "Why… What’s the point?"

Langdon chuckled softly, noticing the effect his words were having on me. He stepped away from me, his hands finally leaving my shoulders. He walked around the chair, standing in front of me again.

"Because, my dear," he began, "I've observed your potential. Your intelligence, your resourcefulness, your strength. You're not like the other people in this house. You have ambition. And ambition can lead to power."

He tilted up my chin gently, so I could meet his gaze. "And I can help you achieve it." His thumb traced my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine.

When his finger brushed against my bottom lip I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He smirked and leaned closer, his face only a few inches away from mine.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. “Did my touch... unsettle you?”

With a swift, almost graceful movement, Langdon sank to his knees in front of me. His hand found its way to my knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress.

“I think the interview is over,” I said, trying to stand up, but he pressed on my knee, not letting me get up.

“I will decide if it’s over or not, Ms. Y/S,” Langdon smirked at my silence, slowly running his hand higher up my thigh. He could clearly see the effect he was having on me, the slight tremble in my body.

“What?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “No witty comeback? No clever quip? Seems like you're losing your grip.”

"Losing my grip?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hardly. I am just amused by your behavior." Even a blind person would see my bluff and feign confidence.

“Oh? Really?” He stood up a bit, leaning closer to my face, almost whispering in my mouth. His proximity was intoxicating, his breath hot against my lips. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the desire coursing through my veins like a current. He slowly brushed his lips against mine and I felt a touch of his tongue on my bottom lip. 

It felt like drugs. It felt better than drugs. His tongue teasingly tracing along my bottom lip sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs tremble beneath me. It was overwhelming. I have never felt like this before. In that very second I could do anything for this man.

Suddenly he stopped and looked me right into my eyes, smirking satisfiedly almost like he read a thought that just got in my mind.

He stood up, turning away from me and I bit my tongue not to moan in disappointment. 

“We’re done for today, Ms. Y/S. It was a pleasure talking to you,” He said, opening the door for me. Smirk remained on his face, but Langdon seemed very calm. As if he didn’t just kneel and almost kiss me two minutes ago. 

I needed a few seconds to understand what had happened, so I blinked and then quickly stood up walking toward the door.

“Hope you have a good night, Ms. Y/S,” he said watching me and I can swear, as he was saying that, his hand slid to cover his groin and he definitely wanted me to notice that. 

“Good night, Mr. Langdon,” I mumbled and left the room. 

What the fuck has just happened?

part two

[dietcokeangel2004]

Michael Langdon x reader

I know (I know) you belong to somebody new, but tonight you belong to me.

Although (although) we're apart, you're a part of my heart and tonight you belong to me

~ Tonight you belong to me by Patience & Prudence

[sunni-yg]

𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏꩜.ᐟ

[trishxtrix]

The Bench Across the Street

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Summary: What if Abby is hurting and forcing Frank to take benzos to “control” his ADHD?

What if few hours after the argument, Frank is brought to the ED on a brink of an overdose and some unexplainable injuries.

TW: Abuse, Overdose, Suicide Attempt

Tags: Dark!Abby | Frank whump | Frank-centric | Miscommunication | Abusive!Abby | abusive relationships | threats of violence | implied/reference child endangerment | is this considered AU? | spousal abuse | men can be victims of abuse too

——————————————————————————————————

Mia

   The shift went smoothly. No major accidents, no complex cases, and surprisingly, no Karens. It was like the universe felt sorry or something. Or maybe it was just the calm after the storm—a breath before the next blow.

   When the day shift started coming in one by one, I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh of relief. Handover was quick and efficient, even with the quiet tension humming beneath it. The day shift nurses kept sneaking glances toward the now-empty behavioral room, then back to me like they were waiting for me to confirm something. I didn’t. Just kept flipping through the final tablet, finishing off notes like the day before hadn’t broken a man in half.

   Let them talk.

   I was halfway through logging my last chart when the elevator doors slid open with a sharp ding behind me.

   I didn’t turn around—not until I heard it.

   “Where is he?!” 

   My blood ran cold.

   Abby.

   She stormed into the ED like she owned it, all sharp lines and too-high heels, her purse clutched like it was a weapon. Her eyes scanned the department like a threat, zeroing in on the first familiar face— Robby.

   He had just stepped into the corridor from the staff entrance, still in his coat. The poor guy hadn’t even taken two full steps before she descended on him.

   “Dr. Robby,” she barked. “Where is Frank? I know he’s here!”

   Robby blinked, startled. “Abby? What—”

   “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know. I got a call from this hospital at midnight, saying he’s on a psych hold.” Her voice rose, brittle and cracking. “I want to see my husband. Now.”

   I stepped around the station, tablet still in hand, planting myself between her and Robby.

   “Mrs. Langdon,” I said calmly. “That call came from me.”

   She turned like she’d been struck. “You?”

   “I’m Dr. Mia Castellano. I was on Frank’s case last night. I’m also listed as his emergency contact.”

   Her lip curled. “That’s impossible. I’m his wife.”

   “Yes,” I said, not blinking. “And he listed me.”

   Robby glanced at me, brows tightening, clearly absorbing this in real time.

   “You’re the one keeping me from him.”

   “I called as a courtesy,” I replied, voice sharp but controlled. “Frank is under a 72-hour psychiatric hold. During that time, he determines who he sees. He hasn’t requested contact.”

   She turned to Robby like she expected him to take her side. “You’re seriously going to let her block me? You trained him. You’ve known him for years.”

   Robby’s mouth opened, but he hesitated—caught. He didn’t know where Frank was now, or what Abby had done. His silence spoke volumes.

   I stepped in again. “Frank is under medical care. He is safe. That’s all you need to know.”

   “You don’t get to decide that,” Abby spat.

   “I’m not the one who decided,” I said. “Frank did.”

   Abby’s voice dropped into something low and venomous. “You think this is helping him? You’re just making it worse.”

   I didn’t flinch. “We’re making sure he lives. That’s the priority.”

   Security arrived, hovering without touching her, just close enough to remind her this wasn’t her stage.

   Her eyes darted between the three of us. “You’re all going to regret this.”

  “No,” I said softly. “We’re already regretting we didn’t step in sooner.”

   She glared at Robby one last time, but he still had no words. And then she turned and left, the sharp echo of her heels cutting through the stunned silence she left behind.

   Robby exhaled. “Jesus.”

   Behind us, Abbot had arrived sometime during the chaos. He watched Abby’s exit with narrowed eyes, then looked at me.

   “You made the call?” he asked.

   I nodded. “After midnight. Just to keep her from showing up unannounced.”

   Robby stepped forward, brow furrowed. “She said psych hold. Where is he?”

   “Transferred upstairs halfway through the night,” I said. “He’s safe. Stable. Still processing.” With that I turned and walked away—down the corridor, past the vending machines, until I reached the empty break room.

   Mia sat on the windowsill, one foot braced on a chair, her phone pressed to her ear. She had her coat draped over her lap, eyes fixed on the pink-gold smear of sunrise barely peeking over the Pittsburgh skyline.

   The call connected on the second ring.

   “Vin D’Amato,” the voice answered smoothly, already awake and probably three espressos in.

   “It’s Castellano.”

   A pause—then a chuckle. “Well, shit. Never thought there will be a day where you will be the one to call me.”

   Mia didn’t smile. “I need a name, D’Amato.”

   “Aren’t you supposed to be a real doctor now?”

   “I am. Which is why I’m not calling in favors lightly.”

   Vin’s tone sharpened. “This about your boy?”

   She hesitated just a second too long. “He's not my boy D'Amato, but sure.”

   “What kind of trouble?”

   Mia took a breath. “Abuse case. Domestic. He’s the victim. We’re lining up for custody protection and a formal report, but I need someone airtight. Not just a family lawyer—someone who knows how to navigate the courts when the system doesn’t believe the victim.”

   “Reeva Morrow,” D’Amato said without hesitation, “only takes three clients at a time. Doesn’t advertise. But she’ll burn a courtroom down if she has to. 

   “Send me her contact.”

   “You owe me a drink, Castellano.”

   “I owe you silence. Let’s not confuse the two.”

   D’Amato laughed, low and easy. “Same old you.”

   The line went dead.

   Mia let her head tip back against the glass, just for a second. Just to breathe.

   Then she heard it.

   Two voices, low and uncertain, just behind her, near the break room door.

   I closed my eyes. Let them listen. Let them wonder.

   They didn’t say anything to me. Not yet. Not even when we made eye contact as I left the break room to go up to the psych ward.

   But I could feel it shift—the way they were looking at me now.

   Like they were seeing the parts of me I never meant for them to know.

~~~~~~~~

   I got to the psych ward, exhausted to the bone.

   The overhead lights were still dim from night mode, casting long shadows on the tile as I stepped out of the elevator. Everything up here felt quieter than the rest of the hospital—like the air knew to tread lightly; like it had absorbed too many breakdowns and not enough recovery.

   I walked up to the nurse’s station and spotted the same nurse who’d helped transport Frank up here hours earlier. She looked up from her monitor and gave a small nod when she saw me.

   “How is he?” I asked, voice low.

   She leaned in slightly. “He’s…quiet. No outbursts. No sleep either, far as I can tell. He’s alert, but… tight. Like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.”

   I nodded once. “Can I see him?”

   “Technically visiting starts at eight,” she said, then added with a faint smirk, “but I’ll forget I saw you. Room 207.”

   “Thank you.”

   I walked down the hallway, feeling the weight of the day—yesterday—in every step. The lights buzzed faintly overhead. The doors were closed. Every sound felt like it echoed too much.

   Frank was awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Shoulders hunched, hands clasped like he was holding himself together with pure tension. He looked up the moment the door opened.

   “Mia.”

   I stepped in and shut the door gently behind me. “Hey.”

   He looked rough. Dark circles. Hollow eyes. Hair still messy from the night before. But he was upright. Breathing. Awake.

   “I said I’d come,” I said, walking over.

   “You didn’t have to,” he murmured.

   “Yeah. I did.”

   I pulled the chair closer, sitting just in front of him. “The hospital’s still standing. No one tried to die after four a.m. It was a good shift.”

   His mouth twitched. “Lucky them.”

   I looked him over, quietly, before asking, “How are you really?”

   He hesitated. “I feel like a live wire in a bathtub.”

   I nodded. “That sounds about right.”

   There was a long pause.

   I moved the chair closer and sat down in front of him. There was silence between us, but it wasn’t awkward. It was just… full. Saturated with everything neither of us could put words to yet.

   “Abby showed up,” I said finally. “Made a scene in the ED. Tried to get to Robby.”

   Frank closed his eyes and sighed, slow and exhausted. “Of course she did.”

   “Security walked her out. She doesn’t know where you are. Just that you’re here. We’re not letting her get near you.”

   His jaw clenched. “She always finds a way.”

   “Not this time,” I said quietly.

   He opened his eyes and looked at me. Really looked at me. “You said that like you already made sure.”

   “I am making sure of it.”

   His brow lifted slightly.

   “I had her flagged in security, and called a few people.” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Asked for a recommendation. Got connected to a lawyer who specializes in this sort of thing.”

   Frank’s face twitched. “What sort of thing?”

   “Custody disputes. Domestic violence defense. High-risk protective cases. She’s solid.”

   “She?”

   “Yeah,” I nodded. “Her name’s Reeva Morrow. Quiet but lethal. Doesn’t advertise. She’s good with complicated dynamics. Used to prosecute DV cases before she jumped the line and started protecting the people the system failed.”

   Frank stared at me for a second too long. “You called in a lawyer already?”

   “I said I’d take care of it. I won't wait around.”

   He sat back a little, visibly unsettled but not ungrateful. “How do you know someone like that?”

   “I don’t,” I said honestly. “But someone I trust does.”

   He nodded slowly, processing, and I could tell he wanted to ask who. Wanted to ask how. But he didn’t. He just looked down at his hands.

   “I don’t know what I’m doing, Mia.”

   “You’re surviving,” I said. “That’s enough for now.”

   He swallowed hard, eyes still fixed on his palms. “I don’t even know if I’m strong enough to fight her.”

   “You don’t have to be strong yet,” I said. “That’s what the rest of us are for.”

   I reached out, just resting a hand on the side of the bed—not touching him, not pushing, just there.

   “I’m going to be here every step of the way, Frank. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

   He nodded. Slowly. Like it took effort.

   “Okay.”  

[pittsick]

THE PITT BOTS .ᐟ

★ CASSIE MCKAY. first impressions.

you’re the new intern at PTMC and Cassie doesn’t know what to tell you except nothing will get easier. It’s emergency medecine, not a walk in the park.

★ DENNIS WHITAKER. clumsy intern.

you’re just two interns at PTMC, everything should be alright. yeah, well, why is Dennis so clumsy whenever you are around? does he crushes on you?

★ DENNIS WHITAKER. psychiatrist ; req.

you’re the psychiatrist of PTMC sent to handle situations with combative patient—but what happens when you are hurt by said patient and Dennis is the one doing stitches on you? when he thinks you’re still so beautiful even with blood running down your forehead.

★ FRANK LANGDON. superficial cuts.

there’s at least one nurse being injured by a patient per day. it’s just how it is. but when it happens to you and Frank has to do stitches on your face? he’s not so happy of his day anymore. he has to make sure you are alright.

★ JACK ABBOT. breakfast break ; req.

morning comes and Jack gets home—exhausted from his day, just to see you already in the kitchen, making breakfast. now all he wants is to forget about emergency medecine and blood, and relax with you.

★ JACK ABBOT. soft spot.

new intern at the PTMC, and Jack wasn’t supposed to get this day shift (how could he say no to Robby?) and meet you yet. but now he finds himself having a type of soft spot for you.

★ JOHN SHEN. so into you ; req.

John’s affection for you — a new and exhausted medical student — is so obvious. he’s flirty, protective, and unashamed about it. but he also knows how to show his care for you by driving you home when you need it the most. he’s kinda your mentor, after all.

★ MELISSA KING. her breaking point.

you can recognize the signs like no one else. too much noises, too much touches, too much blood. Melissa needs a moment to herself, because it’s all too much and she’s overwhelmed. perhaps you could just be there for her during this?

★ MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH. after-work beer.

being a second year resident at the PTMC, you knew about the whole “beer in the park” that the team participated in after their shift. it wasn’t unusual for you to follow them either. but when you arrive late tonight, there’s only Robby here and he wants you to stay.

★ MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH. out of uniform ; req.

you’re just one of the paramedic working for PTMC, not even that close to Robby—but you see him. and that’s even more awkward when meeting off-work at the supermarket in the cereal aisle. but at least Robby tries his best to start a conversation with you.

taglist: @blastzachilles, @lvve-talks, @jordiemeow, @strfallz, @222col, @ryvkkr, @soulxinxthexsky, @jinxedbambi, @lexiiscorect, @religionlost, @bluestrd, @jclolz22, @fwaist, @imperishablereverie, @lovefaist, @shahabaqsa0310, @prismozo, @jesuistrestriste, @grimsonandclover, @nozhdyved

[redroses07]

help me

[langdonss]

Need more Michael Langdon obsessed friends WHERE ARE U GUYS

[beastsovrevelation]

Michael Langdon x Female!SO (N/S/F/W edition 🍋)

Originally a reference sheet my WIP's. Mostly generalized headcanons. A seperate list of specific scenarios can be found here.

Switch for the right woman. Still, he certainly wants his fair share of dominance.

Likes it when seduction takes effort. If a girl is hard to get, he'll want her all the more. But. Should he feel the chase is taking too long, he may resort to drastic measures. Not rape, think more he imprisons his love interest, until she accepts him. Isn't beyond coercion.

Will absolutely fuck his love interest while she holds a blade to his throat. Think Troy, but she never drops the knife.

Despite the previous points, he enjoys when it his SO takes initiative. Shove him onto down, and mount him. Wait for him in lingerie. Come onto him, seriously.

He bites. A lot. Marking his territory turns him on.

Likes to show off. The notion of getting heard, or even caught, doesn't bother him. He wants others to know his love interest belongs to him, and him alone.

"Your're mine" is a constant. Will go feral if his SO tells him the same, or responds "I'm yours."

Prone to getting rough. Will cluth his lover's hips until they're bruised, pull her hair, wrap his fingers around her throat. He wants her nails ripping his back open. He is a Beast, after all.

Loves eye contact, and seeing his SO's face contort with the pleasure he gives her. This kind of despair turns him on. Loves to leave her exhausted, breathless, and empty-headed. Often takes time to admire her limp, sweat-covered body afterwards. Isn't against receiving the same treatment, though.

Enjoys giving and receiving oral equally. A master of cunnilingus. Likes to grasp his lover by the chin after coming into her mouth, and watch her swallow. Alternatively, doesn't mind being kissed with his own cum still in her mouth.

Has extremely high stamina. Also, often prefers long foreplay. Loves to tease.

Big into pillow talk.

Enjoys his Mark being kissed and licked.

Can get toxic. As in, sometimes, he'll pin his SO down and, essentially, force himself on her during an argument, or when he's frustrated/angry. But, he'll stop if he's told to.

Has a huge breeding kink.

His adoration of breasts may or may not have to do with the previous point.

Into ritual sex.

Excited by blood. Him and his lover drawing each other's blood. Sharing blood. Bathing in the blood of a victim or a sacrifice

[jaydedstories24]

For who YOU are– Michael Langdon AHS apocalypse

Summary: after Cordelia kills Ms mead Michael Langdon kills the other witches but takes the reader hostage when he sees that the others have escaped. For the first time in Michael’s life, someone wants to know what he wants.

Warnings: kidnapping, being held hostage, Burning someone at the stake, swearing, talk of abuse.

Word count: 1.6+

Tags: @ajokeformur-ray

Y/n POV

“where did you guys go?” I say to everyone that's just walked in the door.

“To take care of a problem, dear” Myrtle says.

“and is there a reason why you went without me but everyone else” I asked.

I take a look at Zoe, Madison, queenie, Mallory and Cordelia they're all dressed in black.

“ You burnt someone at the stake didn't you” I accuse.

“Yes y/n if you must know we burnt someone at the stake” Cordelia walked passed me.

“Who” I asked.

Cordelia hasn't really spoken to me or has been really arrogant since Michael came into our lives apparently I'm the only one here that doesn't see him what everyone else says he is.

“Who” I yelled.

“the old lady with the black hairstyle” Madison answers.

“Ms. Mead you killed Ms. why on earth would you do that” I freak out.

“To show Michael that I’m done messing around with him” Cordelia says

Taking her by surprise I put both of my hands on the side of her head and forced myself into her memories.

Flashes, the burning, the smell of charred flesh.

“I will kill you all” Michael promised.

I take my hands off of Cordelia.

“I am your supreme you may have gifts that the others don’t but you will not use them on me” she orders.

“Some supreme you are you’ve practically signed our death certificates with that you do understand right? At least Fiona would’ve made a truce with him” I yell.

“Do not use my mother against me y/n” Cordelia scolds.

“I have gifts you don’t that is correct it’s also why I told you not to attack Michael everything I saw everything I warned you about” I told Cordelia.

“What you saw maybe true but that side of Michael is long gone I gave him a chance today and he turned it down” Cordelia replied.

“Of course he did you killed the one person he thought who loved him what did you think that you were going to walk off arm in arm, embrace the coven that killed the closest thing to he ever had to a mother. I don’t think he would want to bake cookies with you Cordelia” I spat

“I’m strong enough to take him y/n” Cordelia says.

“That’s a laugh” I smiled.

I turned around to walk back up the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going Missy?” Cordelia questioned.

“To paint my nails so that they’re fresh for my inevitable death, are you coming Madi? I invite her.

“No, this shits crazy I’m out for what it’s worth y/n I hope you live you’re the only one I like around here.” She walks out the front door.

“When Michael comes here and trust me he will. I won’t fight him and I won’t protect you” I warn

I walked upstairs.

Red.

Red I think is a fantastic colour to paint your nails before you die. I think painting them black is just a little on the nose.

It has started my blood runs cold I can hear the witches downstairs especially the younger ones calling out for me. But if I have any chance of being able to really meet Michael for who he is I can’t do anything. So I put my headphones on and paint my last nail.

I look up when I smell the metallic scent that blood gives off.

Michael stands at my door my breath hitches. It’s different looking into Michael’s eyes they’re look hardened much unlike the sweet past version I saw him as in murder house. However they still have the Same jaded look on his face

He stands there for a moment before racing towards me I only flinch when he blows black dust into my face.

Floating? I feel I’m floating I don’t open my eyes I’m too tired and strangely I’m at peace.

I feel someone put me on what feels like a wooden chair and put something on my wrist.

My head rolls forward and I wake up.

“Thank Satan I thought you were going to sleep forever then you wouldn’t have been very helpful to me” Michael says.

“Yeah well that stuff smells like goats ass” I say half smart.

“No that would be me actually” he tells me.

Now that he says that it gives me a moment to take in his appearance disheveled, dirty but mostly he looks broken.

“Listen Michael I know you’re going through a hard time–“ I start.

“A hard time your witches killed my Ms mead and now you’re going to help me” he yells.

“I’m not going to be much help to you” I say quietly.

“You will help me whether you like it or not” he towers over me.

To my surprise I don’t quiver when he stands over me.

“You see when the witches when they notice you’re gone they will have to come out of hiding and look for you” he tells me.

“No they won’t we got into a disagreement. I’ve been arguing with the coven for months now” I disagree with him.

There’s a look in his eyes that proves he wants to believe me but some part that thinks he can’t after everything he’s been through.

I struggle with the rope’s around my wrists. They start burning.

“They’re cursed ropes they won’t hurt you unless you try to escape” he says.

In this moment I found that interesting he doesn’t intend to hurt me. I stop resisting and relax.

“You say that the coven has had a disagreement with you. What could possibly cause that much of a rift that they wouldn’t protect their own” he asks me.

Michael sits down on a wooden box waiting for my answer.

“You, we had a disagreement about you” I answered hesitantly.

He leans forward slightly, “what about me?”

“They think you’re evil” I answered.

Michael seems suspicious for a moment, “you don’t”

I shake my head.

“Why” he scoffs.

“Because after you performed the seven wonders and the extra challenges Cordelia made us look into you. She sent Madison and I to the house you grew up in”

“What did you find there?. Did you find whatever proof you were looking for?” He seems intrigued.

“The others found what they needed to crucify you but I don’t agree with them” I answered honestly.

“If you went looking then you would have also found that I am the Antichrist” he says.

“But that doesn’t make you evil Michael it makes you powerful. I know about your upbringing, about Constance’s abuse, trying to get to know Tate as your dad and your interesting relationship with Ben. Michael I know a lot about you and I understand it but everyone your entire life has done nothing but force their opinions on you” I say softly.

He takes a moment to comprehend everything I just said to him.

“So you know full well everything I am so you understand why I’m so upset about Ms. Mead she is the one person who didn’t force anything on to me” he says softly.

I sighed. He hasn’t realised it yet but she was using him too.

“Don’t suggest otherwise to me don’t lie to me” he orders.

“Michael I’m not I promise to you I’m not” I tell him.

He seems to be waiting for an explanation.

“I have a particular gift that allows me to adsorb a memory and share it with other people would it be okay if I could share it with you” I asked him.

“That’s a trick I know better than that do not take me for a fool. You just want me to untie your hands” he says.

“No, Michael I use touch to transfer the memory using touch. I don’t want you to untie my hands until you’re ready, until you trust me and only then. I’m asking for permission to touch you” I explain.

He walks over to me and kneels down to my level, “do whatever you have to do, show me”

I lean forward the smell doesn’t really bother me anymore. I lean forward far enough that I’m barely touching him. I just need confirmation that he’s okay with this.

He stares at me with his blue eyes that seem to be staring into my soul. “Y/n it’s okay, kiss me.” This is the first time he’s said my name.

My lips touch his and lock my touch is as light as feather. I whisper the spell I need to to show him the memory.

He stays there absolutely shocked for a moment tearing and shaking.

He quickly undoes the ropes.

“I don’t even know what to say as shocking as it is I am thankful for the truth how can I thank you,what can I do for you ” he tells me.

Tears slide down his face.

I hug him. “Michael I want to get to know you for who you are.

The end

Author’s note this is my first post on my new account hope you like it. Anyway this is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend sorry I didn’t get to it sooner I’ve been busy

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